Chapter 19

Here's the thing when you do something illegal, you either get caught or you don't. 

Tristan was the latter, Ace and I got away with it. Do I feel bad? Yes. Did he deserve it? Most definitely. 

Did I regret the entire plot? Yes. 

Because now, I can't stop thinking about Ace Martins. It's ridiculous, and I'm certain that I'm just going to fuck up his life. Despite my best efforts to drive him away–both mentally and physically–I've failed in doing so. 

In a span of months, I haven't gone out much. Mainly because the only person I've just wanted to see is living right across the street. I talk to Chloe and Ollie every now and then, nothing is wrong with them, but I found myself wanting to talk to Ace more. I hate it, but then the things we do say otherwise. 

Everything went by fast and if I'm being completely honest, I don't think I remember all of it. 

The last we heard from Tristan is that cops came to their house, and I think he's either in jail or rehab or god knows where, I decided not to know more. 

Ace constantly checked on me. The entire scenario was dramatic. It first started out with him messaging me, then throwing tiny stones at my window but big enough to make a noise, there are nights when he would actually climb up to my room. But sometimes, when we're both not really conditioned to risk getting caught, he would just call me, he would open up his bedroom window, I would open up mine. We would talk from a distance. 

Then there was this one night when my mom came home late, the latest she has ever come home. I was supposed to be sleeping, but it was just one of those nights when I couldn't. She came through the door, her steps careful but still heavy, and she was talking to someone. I thought she was on the phone, but then I felt a different rhythm of footsteps that clearly wasn't my mother's. Someone else was in the house. 

My mind flashed to robbery, but who was I kidding? My mom literally just got in. She was with someone. 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what was happening. All those late nights she stayed at work, when she would trust me to handle myself for a few days, it was all because of someone. 

They both didn't stay long. I heard a few more walking here and there, attempts of being silent, tipsy chuckles, shushing, then they went out the door again and I hear a car drive away.

After everything that has happened to me, I will never forget what an empty house feels like. And right now, this house that I'm in only has me in it. An empty house means you're free to do what you want. You're free to feel whatever. 

So I let the heaviness in my chest take over the rest of my stomach, take over my limbs as they tense and within seconds, I found myself finding it hard to breathe, with tears running down my face. For a moment, they felt foreign on my cheeks. I haven't cried for a while and I knew the reason why. I was grateful for a few seconds. Then I felt the need to call him. Or to maybe run out of the house and I'll be the one to climb inside his room this time. But I didn't do anything. This isn't the first time this happened to me anyway, but it still doesn't change the fact that it still hurts every time.

What am I even crying about? What she was doing was normal. They'll eventually find new people, it's meant to happen. 

I'm supposed to be happy for her but I'm not. 

The thought registers and now I hate myself for feeling that way. So for a few hours, I laid in bed, staining my pillow with tears rooted from hate directed towards everyone then taking it back only to punish myself with it. 

There were times when I couldn't really breathe. It felt like the most difficult thing I ever had to do. I didn't know if that was intentional, if I was waiting for my body to finally give in and do what I think I was willing it to do, or if it was only the result of my tears. 

My entire body hurt, I rush out of my bed and I open the window to let the breeze inside. It didn't help, everything was still painful and I feel like if I don't grip the edges of the window properly, I would fall off in an instant. 

That wouldn't be too bad.

The moment that thought crossed my mind, I went back to my bed and grabbed my phone. I don't want to do anything I'd regret only a second after it sinks in. 

And that's how it led Ace to climb out his window only to climb up mine. I felt bad about waking him up, about letting him strain his newly awakened muscles by sneaking up and inside when I could have just gotten the door for him, but I don't trust myself with the stairs. 

So he climbs inside the open window, finds me in the corner of the wall where my bed is, and no one said anything. He removed his shoes and put them on the windowsill, and sat on the edge of the bed. He definitely looked like someone who just got out of bed, he's wearing sweatpants, a worn out t-shirt and socks. 

I can't even remember what I put on this evening, I just know that I'm wearing something. What I know is that I'm hugging my knees to my chest, my nails are digging into the sides of my arms, and my entire body feels like its about to desiccate any minute now. 

But in that moment I also knew I felt safe from myself, Ace was worried for my life, that he was the best to ever happen to me in a long time, and that I was definitely going to be the reason why he's going to have the next terrible months to come. 

I loathed myself to admit that I was falling for him, because I wasn't made to love. I'm too fragile for love, I choose to not be loved anymore because the last time I felt loved it broke me into a million pieces when I didn't have it anymore. I'm hung up on a broken marriage that isn't even mine. I detested every ounce of feeling that I feel because it equals to the possibility of falling into a pit that I know is going to be completely impossible to get out of. 

I'm hurting, and that will eventually hurt him. It's selfish to ask for his help when I know I won't be doing shit for him but here I am doing it anyway.

I was about to tell him it's a school night, that I'm okay now and he should go back, but then I remembered it's a fucking school break and it's just any other night.

I know he feels like he's treading on eggshells here and I don't blame him, ignoring how difficult it feels, I took a deep breath and told him, "You can say anything."

And I meant it. He can say whatever the hell he wants because I just need to hear a different voice than the ones in my head.

"I saw a dog peeing in your front yard this morning," he says and before I knew it I burst out laughing. 

I am certified batshit crazy. 

I hope Ace knows that. I hope he finds out just how much my mind is a fucked up place to try and understand. I hope that he does what's best for him. 

Whether I leave or I stay, it will hurt him. He has to make that choice at some point. And because I have a fucked up mind, in a matter of seconds, I made things difficult for the both of us. 

I kissed him.

It felt like more than what I needed in that moment and for a while, my mind was quiet. Then it flashes back to the lake, how he took his anger out on my lips and I was completely okay with it because I was high, to how I felt like he wanted to also kiss me in the car when we left Tristan's but I just didn't bother thinking about it, images fly by in my head as he kisses me back, my arms are around his neck, his hands are on my waist and he gently pushes my body down on the bed as he brings his body closer to mine.

I'm going to take a wild guess that he felt the tears on my face because he stopped. He put his hands on both sides of my face. "Are you okay?"

I shake my head. "No." 

Instead of saying anything, he pulls me in and kisses the top of my head. I'm leaning against his chest and his scent reminds me of his room, of that one morning when I woke up in his bed, of how he was always there for me. 

Without expecting it, I eventually fell asleep with a different feeling in my chest. The storm subsided, and I know that this makes things different for both of us now.